The Rocket Launcher Drabbles
by Ms Trick
Summary: Pairings, characters, ratings vary according to each drabble. Chapters cover births, birthdays, death, recognition, people with names that begin with the letter J, and AU Drusilla.
1. Births

**The Aftertaste of Chocolate**  
  
post _Band Candy_  
  
Conceiving Buffy had been a challenge. Conceiving Dawn had been a miracle. Two girls. And Joyce was eternally grateful for both of them and so sure that that was all her desolate womb could produce, so sure that her uterus had already stretched beyond its feeble limits. Which is why it was such an utter shock when the strip faded into a clearly-recognizable blue tint.  
  
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and lowered her hand. Joyce wondered how to tell her daughters that she was pregnant with Rupert Giles' child.

**--**

**Dog Tags**  
  
A pretty dark-haired woman sat alone at the corner table in the rowdy tavern. Though she received many leers from the drunken males around her, her face remained blank as she sipped her pitcher of gin draught save the occasional sneer at the gibbering men.  
  
The woman's companion returned swiftly, carrying her own glass of absinthe and discourteously shoving an intoxicated man out of her path. Sitting down, the two friends resumed their conversation.  
  
"I'm not sure. I think I'll keep Anya. I've grown rather attached to it. It's simple and easily linked to my true name. What did you decide to call yourself this time?"  
  
"I was considering Cecily."


	2. Recognition

**Family**  
  
set during _School Hard_  
  
In the long hours of the day when Collin found himself restless and unable to sleep, the Master would tell him stories, great stories of his line. The tales were detailed. The Master described in full the wrath of his late- favourite Darla and her bloodthirsty lover Angelus. He introduced Collin to the nature of the mad seer Drusilla and of the body counts left behind by William the Bloody.  
  
"Who are you?" He would later ask in his misleading child's voice and already know the answer.  
  
"Spike."  
  
--  
  
**Open Ears**  
  
set during _Lie to Me_  
  
"It was terrible. I moped over you for months. Sitting in my room listening to that Divinyls song 'I Touch Myself'."  
  
Buffy's eyes opened a little further when she realized how what she just said could be taken. Casting a nervous look at Xander and Willow, she quickly stuttered:  
  
"Of course, I had no idea what it was about."  
  
Willow forgot to take what her friend said the wrong way. As soon as Buffy had mentioned the song, Willow's mind recognized the old tune and the words started rolling through her head.  
  
_I love myself, I want you to love me  
When I feel down I want you above me  
I search myself, I want you to find me  
I forget myself, I want you to remind me_  
  
Willow's eyes took on a glazed appearance during the remainder of the conversation as she sang inside her head 'cause...singing out loud is just right in the way of badness. She barely noticed Buffy and Ford's departures or Xander's bitter sarcasm.  
  
_I don't want anybody else  
And when I think about you I touch myself  
I don't want anybody else  
Oh no, oh n..._  
  
Willow's eyes widened.  
  
"Oh, that's what that song is about?!"  
  
--  
  
**Angel of Death**  
  
set post _The Freshmen_  
  
Buffy glared at Kathy from across the classroom, part of her mind making a list of reasons why she loathed her roommate and another part of her mind busy pretending that she was paying attention to her Art Appreciation professor.  
  
"...looking at work done during the 1700's around the British Isles. Please turn to page 458."  
  
Buffy halted her glaring only long enough to flip to the correct page in her textbook.  
  
"...many portrayals of Death, this is one of the most peculiar considering that in this painting, Death is, might I say, rather handsome..."  
  
Several students chuckled.  
  
"...and he seems to have a blond, female partner."  
  
Buffy glanced down at her textbook page and her heart froze in her chest. She sucked in some air as she continued to stare at the large colour-print. She wondered exactly what she did to get on the bad side of the universe. Why would they thrust this reminder into her face when all she was trying to do was get over him and move on?  
  
Buffy slammed her eyes shut but Angelus' cold grin and Darla's bloodstained lips kept dancing through her vision. 


	3. Ideas of Drusilla

**Red Poet (AU)**

_London__, 1880_

"Well, if you're lonely, Dru, why don't you make yourself a playmate?"

"I could. I could pick the wisest and bravest knight in all the land--and make him mine forever with a kiss," Drusilla babbled before being cut off by a young woman in tears, who bumped into their trio. 

"You--watch where you're going!" She sobbed as she bent over to pick up her dropped notebook before picking up her skirts and stumbling on.

"Or you could just take the first drooling idiot that comes along," Darla said looking after her. "You think she'll find a good one?" Angelus inquired, laughing. He slid his arm around Darla's corseted waist and they walked on. Drusilla watched after the crying woman as images flew through her head. "No," Drusilla whispered. "There will be no knights, only red, red days with the lady. I found you." 

Drusilla discovered the pretty red head sitting on a bale of hay in a dark alley, shredding several pieces of paper.

"And I wonder...what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this elegant stranger to tears?"

The woman gasped and stood at the entrance of this dark woman.

"Nothing. I wish to be alone," she stuttered, her eyes downcast, hoping this visitor would leave so she could resume crying.

"Oh, I see you. A woman surrounded by fools who cannot see her strength, her vision, her glory. That and burning baby fish swimming all around your head," Drusilla sing-songed as she moved closer to the red head, who nervously backed away.

"That's quite close enough," Willow said, finding her voice. "I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not be getting my purse, I tell you."

Drusilla smiled enigmatically.

"Don't need a purse. Your wealth lies here...and here," She said, pointing to Willow's heart and head in succession. "In the spirit and...imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."

Willow was riveted by this refreshing insight into her character. She had heard wild gossip tales of women who lay with other women but didn't figure to find herself in any situation remotely similar.

"Oh...yes," Willow whispered. "I mean, no. I mean...Mother's expecting me."

Drusilla let her hand skim upwards between the Willow's breasts, trace her collarbone, and stroke her neck before tucking a stray red ringlet back behind her ear.

"I see what you want; something glowing and glistening; something...effulgent."

As Drusilla whispered these words, Willow was nearly beside herself at finally finding someone who understood her.

"Effulgent," Willow breathed in amazement.

"Do you want it?"

Willow had never wanted anything more.

"Oh, yes!" Willow moaned shamelessly. "God, yes."

Drusilla looked down for a moment as her face changed and her fangs descended. Willow watched, more confused than afraid. Drusilla slid one arm around Willow's waist and another around the side of her neck. Pulling Willow toward her, Drusilla buried her fangs in the red head's neck. Willow screamed out in pain but her cries quickly dwindled until they transformed into moans of pleasure as Drusilla ended her human existence, extinguishing it like a match.

--

**Words Across His Eyelids (AU)**

_mid-Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered_

Drusilla's embrace was strong on this trembling boy. As she sank her fangs lovingly into his neck, she could taste the remains of the love spell in his blood. She licked the enchantment from her lips with distaste and patted her new pet on the head after forcing some of her cold, red blood down his throat.

Her yellow eyes flicked up suddenly as the mob of girls and women stopped in their tracks, confused as to their whereabouts now that the spell had been broken.

_You were not supposed to hand this golden crown to him. Tricky words and red candles muddled muddled muddled. This boy is not yours..._

Drusilla staggered to her feet and covered her ears to block out the horrid whispering voices.

"It was accidental," she keened with her now-human eyes screwed shut. "My Angel, I didn't mean to hand over your jewels again!" She wailed beseechingly towards the night.

"There, there, Dru," Angelus said in a parody of comfort, coming out from behind a tree. His only regret was not having been able to kill Xander himself. "You created a mess for our sweet, little Slayer. Good girl."

Drusilla calmed and then looked down at Xander curiously, as though she had never seen him before.

"The puppy is too dirty to take home in my arms. He will have to chase his tail before he gets a treat."

Angelus' grin was pure ice as he let Drusilla lead the way back to the mansion, leaving Xander on Buffy's front lawn.

--

**Black Locks**

Darla used to fix up her hair, brushing it and curling it and pinning it. When William was sired he quickly learned to take Darla's place. Drusilla would smile whenever his hands ran through her hair.

Darla had always aimed for the fanciest, most fashionable and up-to-date styles for Drusilla's shiny locks. Spike was never so preoccupied with current trends and usually styled her hair in pretty yet simple ways to keep it out of her face.

After screeching out of Sunnydale in Spike's DeSoto, a chasm formed between them. Drusilla no longer smiled when he ran his hands through her hair. She could feel his comparison to of her dark hair to the Slayer's blond. So she twisted away from him whenever he reached for her, and her hair was left uncurled and unpinned.

Later, after she had left him, she pulled at her drab hair to try and make it curl and shine again but it still fell in monotone to her shoulders.


	4. Happy Birthday

**Ghost Day**

Anya made up her birthday after she became trapped as a human. When your days aren't numbered, it's less important. She figures birthdays are such a big deal because with a mortal life comes the fear that that mortal life will end. She understands, but she thinks it's a ridiculous way to live: counting down your days.

She understands why it's almost unthinkable for a human to forget his or her own date of birth, and she'll coordinate a social gathering with cake and an off-tune song every year for appearances.

When March came around in Anya's second year of being human again, she couldn't remember if she had told Xander her birthday was the 7th or the 17th. She played eenie-meenie-miney-moe and her birthday landed on the 17th. If she had guessed wrong, nobody commented. She was, as always, delighted with the ritual of gift-giving.

This year her favourite present came, surprisingly, from Dawn, who eagerly handed Anya a copy of "Wealth of Nations".

"It's by Adam Smith. He was, like, this uber ultimate capitalist. We learned about him in history class.

Anya smiled a genuine smile. Maybe birthdays weren't that ridiculous.

--

**Silent Rebellion**

Kendra doesn't rebel. Even if she had not been instilled with the dutiful, rigid responsibility of a Vampire Slayer, she still would have blossomed into a girl who held her tongue, whose eyes were constantly averted in respect or shyness.

She likes that her life has a purpose and that her needs are taken care of. So Kendra doesn't rebel. Even her mind is still.

Except she never forgot her birthday. Ever since she was a little girl, it had always been treated as inadequate. Her Watcher was austere and they had no time to hold discussions over boxes and bows when there were techniques and blades to become familiar with. Though she was never commanded outright to forget her birthday; the issue had been left to fade away.

Kendra doesn't rebel, but she never forgot her birthday.

--

**Real a Lie**

AU ; Buffy/Spike ; takes place a few years after_ Becoming Part 2_

Xander wonders where she is sometimes. Well, more than sometimes. He wonders where she is a lot of the time.

Cordelia had forced Xander to take a few days off from his construction job so that they could get away for his birthday. He would be twenty tomorrow.

Cordelia returned to their small table with a beer in each hand and he kissed her on the cheek as she sat down. Suddenly, his eyes widened as the girl up on the club's stage began to sing.

Xander fixated on her. Her hair was darker and her body had become a little fuller and her taste in clothes had changed a fair amount but it was her. It couldn't not be her. The funny thing is that Xander had never known that Buffy could sing. But here she was crooning into the microphone as though she'd been doing this for ages.

All the years searching across the globe and she was only an hour's drive away all this time.

Hours later, after Buffy had bid the enthusiastic audience goodnight, she slipped backstage.

Xander babbled offhandedly to Cordelia that he needed to go to the bathroom. Cordelia wasn't stupid; she recognized Buffy and realized that Xander would need to see her. But she kept her mouth shut and finished her beer.

Xander climbed the steps that led to the backstage area, weaving around a stack of drums and an abandoned pair of boots. He dragged his clammy hands across his jeans and peered around a dark corner and nothing prepared him for what he witnessed.

Spike had his fingers through her hair and was tilting her head so that he could deepen their kiss. Buffy moaned and gasped and pressed herself closer to him.

Xander turned away from this odd dark taunt. He wondered why he had been shown this, why he had been shown her.

He bitterly wishes himself a happy birthday and Cordelia doesn't ask when he pulls her out of the club without a word.


	5. J is For

**Jasmine**

post _Tomorrow_ (AtS)

Cordelia had been resting. Technically, sleep wasn't required but she wanted to cling to that option. She wanted to feel human again. So she let her eyes drift closed and suddenly she suffered a jolt. She smelled jasmine and felt a gut-wrenching tug and then she was back on earth, watching her eyes and hands move without her.

--

**Joan**

mid _Tabula Rasa_

"I'll name me..."

She tried to concentrate on what she felt she was called. What would she respond to?

Snippets of battle experience and pointy weapons danced in her blood. She felt like a warrior. Unfamiliar with the Slayer myth because of her amnesia, she associated the female warrior image with the well-known Joan of Arc.

"I feel like a Joan."

--

**Jenny Calendar**

set Season 4 of BtVS

As the dust of her enemy settled on the ground, a nearby gravestone caught her eye, and it made her stop. Buffy stood quietly with her wooden stake clutched in her hand and stared at the letters "Jenny Calendar" and unbidden a memory flitted across the night into her mind.

Jenny was telling Giles that that she had always been better with numbers, math and computers and the like. Giles had abashedly told her that he was basically the opposite, finding skill with words and history. She had merely grinned and slyly said, "Opposites attract."

Buffy sighed and backed away from Jenny's gravestone before turning and sprinting across the cemetery.

--

**Jessica Harris**

"What is it? Is it about me? Do you hate me Tony?" Jessica was pleading.

"It isn't you." Anthony Harris sighed. "It isn't you I'm hating, Jess. I had these thoughts, and...fears before."

Anthony stared at the floor for a beat before saying:

"Maybe we just went too fast."

"Look, everybody has thoughts. It's natural, it doesn't mean that, that getting married is wrong," Jessica said desperately, holding her fiancé's hands in her own."I know, I know...""Look, you're just shaken up, okay? You just calm down and we'll start over, okay?" Jessica said, her voice wavering.

Anthony looked at her and thought that she was beautiful, on the verge of tears in her wedding dress. He had to try and trust her, he knew. Yes. Yes, she was right. They would simply start over. Anthony would not become his father if he had anything to say about it. He and Jess would be better parents than his had been to him.

He gave her a smile and nodded, and the relief and love that spread across her face was glorious.


End file.
